25 | ℓoνє ѕтorу

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But you were everything to me

I was begging you please don't go

Chapter 25 ~ Love Story

     Liam Slater

It was a Tuesday, or a Friday, I couldn't really remember. I had stopped bothering to check the calendar a while back.

What was the point, anyway? It wasn't like I had a day to look forward to. My life was pretty much pointless ever since Scotty died, and there was nothing my parents could do to fix that. Even if they thought they were helping by handing me the keys to a brand-new, cherry red sports car.

"It's yours," my dad exclaimed with a dazzling grin stretching from ear to ear.

I clutched the keys in my hand and pretended to smile, because that was supposed to be the reaction of a normal teenage boy when he finds out he won't have to ride the school bus anymore. "Thanks," I said softly.

He slapped a hand on my shoulder and shook me roughly. "No problem, bud. Why don't you take it for a spin?"

"I have nowhere to go," I wanted to tell him, but I knew that would have sounded a little bit daunting, and saying no would've made him suspicious, so I just nodded instead. Then, my father ruffled my hair, smiled in approval, and walked back into the house, leaving me all alone.

I gazed back at the spotless car and exhaled heavily as I made my way to the driver's side. I slid into all-black leather seat and traced my fingers along the sleek steering wheel.

I must have sat there for a full ten minutes, simply contemplating life, before deciding to start the car. The engine purred beneath my feet and the dashboard lit up with a neon blue light. I started to wonder how much this car costed my parents, but I didn't care long enough to ponder the thought.

In seconds, I had backed out of the driveway and started the drive to nowhere. I didn't have a place in mind so I just let the road take me where it wanted. After a while, though, I realized that I subconsciously had an intended destination because minutes later, I had pulled curbside of Summer Hill's cemetery. Even in death, Scotty had some kind of control on me that I couldn't quite explain, not like I wanted to.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I climbed out of the car and walked up to the tall gate entrance. Part of me knew that I shouldn't be here, but part of me didn't care about my impending heartbreak.

I glanced up at the late afternoon sky; it was gloomy and coated with cumbersome clouds that cast an unnatural darkness on the cemetery. Come to think of it, cemeteries seemed to always have somber weather attached to them. It was the irony of it all, you know, since grey clouds symbolized sadness and no one ever left a cemetery with a smile on their face.

It didn't take me a long time to find Scotty's grave because I had practically memorized its location. The headstone was placed right underneath a willow tree and some of the branches were draped along the sides of it. Scotty's full name along with his date of birth and date of death were engraved into the stone and yellow lilies rested against the dank soil.

I didn't say anything and I didn't think I needed to. It was like there was a common understanding between Scotty and I. He knew how much I missed him and how much I wanted him back in my arms, but saying those words would be a waste of a time.

So I just stood there in silence.

Around us, I was faintly aware of the sound of water rushing in a nearby fountain and the emergence of crickets chirping into the early evening, making the peaceful silence ... not so silent.

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